


be the one tonight

by plaxhums



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:56:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaxhums/pseuds/plaxhums
Summary: (11:12 p.m.) lance: you have 30 seconds to rectify the abysmal negligence shown toward your best friend(11:13 p.m.) keith: you’re right, I completely forgot to text pidge back earlier(11:14 p.m.) lance: why are you like this(11:15 p.m.) lance: i’m appalled(11:16 p.m.) lance: shiro would be disappointed. i’m texting him right now(11: 17 p.m.) keith: oh, trust me. if you text shiro at this very moment, after he just got off a 16 hour shift, it’s not going to be me he will be disappointed in(11:18 p.m.) keith: actually you know what? you should text him





	be the one tonight

**(10:45 p.m.) lance:** go outside

 **(10:47 p.m.) keith:** no?? it’s almost 11 o’clock, lance. go to sleep  
**(10:47 p.m.) keith:** or bother hunk

 **(10:48 p.m.) lance:** I’ll have you know Hunk is out with Shay and I have enough common decency not to interrupt. you’re zero fun, you know that? where’s your sense of adventure

 **(10:54 p.m.) keith:** your sense of courtesy and propriety is truly unprecedented and biased. I’m busy and my sense of adventure only adheres to regular adult hours.

 **(10:55 p.m.) lance:** yeah okay, grandpa. but last I checked the old folks’ home has a 9 o’clock curfew and, judging by the amount of time between your responses, I know you’re doing dishes. you’ve been doing dishes during regular, adult sleeping hours since the sophomore year of college, so your argument is invalid.  
**(10:57 p.m.) lance:** we’re 25 and you’re doing dishes at 11 p.m. on a Friday night and you’re going to stop right this second and go outside, keith

 **(11:01 p.m.) keith:** who’s keith?

 **(11:01 p.m.) lance:** har har that works exactly two times and you wasted your shots three years ago. you’ve held onto the same cell phone number since you were 16  
**(11:08) lance:** I WILL NOT BE IGNORED KEITH

* * *

 Keith swiped his hand over the dish towel by his side before unlocking his phone, scoffing at Lance’s last text. He rolled his eyes, if Keith had actually been ignoring him, he would have finished up washing the dishes twenty minutes ago. Part of him got a maniacal thrill knowing that Lance was getting the notification that Keith had seen his message - driving home the ruthlessly purposeful act of ignoring him. It happened every now and again, Lance either had coffee too late in the day or got his second wind, albeit it usually lasted an hour and a half tops before the week finally came crashing down on his system. He would text one of them or show up at someone’s door or call or whatever Lance felt particularly up to given the day of the week (pooling results from Pidge and Hunk, it was found that Mondays and Thursdays were the days Lance only wanted someone to veg out watching Netflix with, Tuesdays were stress days where Lance just needed to unload a particularly crappy day or whatever, and Friday or Saturday were the ‘Adventure Days’),

He’d burn through it relatively fast before crashing on someone’s couch and call a Family Breakfast at whoever’s house he stayed at the next morning.

Which, he wasn’t complaining about, for the record. Hunk always brought his A game for last minute group breakfasts and, begrudgingly he had to admit, Lance had French toast on lock if someone wanted it. He even knew the amount of powdered sugar Keith liked on his and didn’t judge him for it.

* * *

 **(11:12 p.m.) lance:** you have 30 seconds to rectify the abysmal negligence shown toward your best friend

 **(11:13 p.m.) keith:** you’re right, I completely forgot to text pidge back earlier

 **(11:14 p.m.) lance:** why are you like this **  
(11:15 p.m.) lance:** i’m appalled **  
(11:16 p.m.) lance:** shiro would be disappointed. i’m texting him right now

 **(11: 17 p.m.) keith:** oh, trust me. if you text shiro at this very moment, after he just got off a 16 hour shift, it’s not going to be me he will be disappointed in  
**(11:18 p.m.) keith:** actually you know what? you should text him

 **(11:20 p.m.) lance:** I’ve let you stall for like half an hour, keith. you’ve really left me with no choice

Keith tapped his thumb against the phone’s screen, ready to fire back a response when a screech and all too - _all too_ \- familiar horn broke the quiet bubble over the neighborhood. He startled enough to check his hip hard against the counter and yelled. He tore through the house, bumping every piece of furniture and stumbling over his shoes in his life or death path for the front door because the horn wasn’t stopping or even repeating. Just one long stretch of annoying that would have the neighbors after his head. The door bounced back against the wall from the force he tore it open with. He fought the screen door as the latch caught and stuck in place, putting his lurch to a halt.

He jerked the latch and fumbled for the porch light, flicking it on and off in his haste to send Lance the message that yes, he was coming out and to _stop_.

_The complete asshole._

Keith staggered down the stoop in socked feet and bee-lined for Lance. His anger surged when he was only met with laughter and the pleased glimmer in Lance’s eyes when his hand caught in the worn blue t-shirt.

“I’m _this close_ to throttling you. Geez.” Keith shoved Lance halfheartedly as his hands began to shake, he ran them through his hair in hopes it would stop the twitching. “What is the matter with you?! Do you want someone to call _the police???”_

Lance’s tongue peaked out and swiped cheekily against his lip as his face broke out into a grin. “Good to see you too, Red.”

“Someone better be dying, McClain,” Keith huffed. Adrenaline still heaved through his veins, dragged his shoulders in shuddering breaths, but enough anger left him enough to let some humor leak into his words.

The line usually landed with Lance, but tonight it shot off in the dark and exploded in the distance as the humor left Lance’s face and a curtain of sobriety fell over his eyes.

Keith moved to stand next to him, leaning his back against Lance’s car. He cleared his throat. “Soooo, you know I’m not _really_ going to throttle you, right? Because that was a j-”

“Do you want to go somewhere with me?”

“Wh- _Lance_.”

The boy in question scratched the back of his head, a nervous tick that was ill-fitted on his broad shoulders, restraining his frame like an old coat. He furrowed his brows, the line of his mouth working against whatever was going on in his head. “ _Will_ you go somewhere with me?

“I’m pulling the emergency friend card.”

And wasn’t _that_ more startling to hear than the high-pitched whine of Lance’s car horn. “Wait, someone’s not actually dying, right? Do I need to wake up Shiro?”

“Wh-no, no, no. Nothing like that. Things are just…” Lance wriggled his fingers by his temple. “Loud.”

“Yeah, yeah…Okay.” Keith nodded his head and struck out back to the door. “Let me get my shoes and keys.”

Lance folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Cool. I’ll drive, obviously.”

* * *

So, here he was, the residue of Dawn dish soap drying uncomfortably on his wrists in Lance’s passenger seat going to some unknown secondary location with no clue why and the part of him that still ultimately failed at social cues and dealing with serious situations, wanted to make a jibe about things never going great if you agreed to go to a secondary location. The static of the radio out of tune and Lance’s somber focus on driving stills whatever words on his tongue.

Usually the radio was on and being constantly rotated between stations during commercial breaks or in search of a song Lance liked better, circling through that motion twice before he punched the button to play a mixed CD he’s had since high school. It probably hadn’t left the dash of Lance’s car since the day it was burned.

He and Lance could speed through emotions and conversations like no other when they were together, but the way Lance had all but deflated in the driveway after the unrelenting texts and confident attitude made his skin crawl. On top of the emergency friend card thing. Which was instated after Keith and Lance had to have a chat on what Keith considered a friend emergency and what Lance did. It had been more of a joke than anything. Usually, they mentioned it only ironically. But this time, Lance’s voice was too earnest for it to be anything but.

“You, uhm, obviously have stuff on your mind and I don’t even know if you want to talk, but you’ve gotta give me something here, Lance. I-If _I’m_ going to be of any use.” He wasn’t Hunk. Hunk was usually Lance’s go-to person for these times. The unspoken sentiment hung in the humid night air between them.

He couldn’t just read Lance’s mind. Couldn’t look him in the eyes and know exactly what was going on in his head like Hunk can. No matter how often he found himself wishing he could lately.

“Right.” Lance signaled and turned down a side street, the space between houses growing. The number of road lights flickered out out-numbering the ones that still blazed an aged yellow, washing the inside of the car occasionally.

Keith’s confusion swelled as the car was parked in an open, uninhabited area. The sky unhindered as Lance got out of the car and hopped on the hood of the car. It was several moments before Keith realized he still had the seat belt on and wasn’t following Lance’s cue. So, he did.

Popped out of the car and hopped onto the hood, very concerned about the amount of popping and creaking from their weight settling onto it. He let out the breath he had been holding when Lance didn’t say anything or look even marginally concerned and leaned back against the window like Lance was.

“So…”

“I wanted to show you where this is.”

“This…?”

Lance chuckled and swept a hand out. “Right out there. Straight out of The Lion King.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but followed the line of Lance’s hand all the same. The sky was deep and crystal clear above them. Close and simultaneously far away. He could sort out the curve of the sky without buildings in the way. The stars looked lit up just for this one moment and-

The thing about Lance was that as much as he was loud, he had his quiet spots. Keith had been privy to a select few, not that that was bad. Lance deserved to have spaces of his own between all of his siblings and school and work and the sheer amount of time he still spent with his friends. For years he had questioned whether or not Lance actually slept. Away from the harsh porch light and rows of houses, Lance’s expression opened and relaxed as he looked over the sky. His shoulders drooped and the line of his silhouette seemed to go on forever as he stretched out his legs.

“You’re not looking, Keith.”

The thing about Keith was that he had seen the clear, open sky several times.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> another something that I had half of written out in my drafts a century ago. I sometimes cross post sporadic oneshots/drabbles between here and tumblr (same username). My main/current project is lift your open hand though.


End file.
